


Home Is Where You Rest Your Heart

by AndreaLyn



Series: Homesteaders [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Fifteen years on, Vasquez has built a home and a life in Rose Creek, with a spot for Faraday to settle into, if he wants. Trouble is, Faraday's not sure he's ready to stay, but he's also not ready to lose out on what he's got.





	Home Is Where You Rest Your Heart

It’s been three months since Faraday last saw Rose Creek, having been pulled north to Wyoming for a job that took him a month longer than anticipated, thanks to the spitfire passion in the horse that he’d needed to tame. He’s not sure if it’s the length of time or the fact that he’s getting soft, but as he draws closer to the town, it feels a whole damn lot like coming home. That telltale swell in his heart makes it good and clear that he’s actually happy to be back, which truthfully isn’t something he’d have ever counted on.

For a man who’d prided himself on gambling his way through every small town that he could, it’s a strange thing, all these years after the battle for Rose Creek, that he’s come to seek out the feel of settling. 

It’s not just the town that makes him feel that way, of course, but that’s a thought for later.

“Evening, Mr. Faraday,” Anthony greets him as he rides in. He’s been waiting at the town’s entrance, probably standing there ever since he’d been sighted on the horizon.

“Why am I still mister to you, huh?” Faraday complains as he dismounts, giving the young man a dubious look. “Maybe when we rode into town fifteen years back, I might have been, but you’re all grown now, doing your father’s job at the school. I ain’t no mister.”

Fifteen damn years. He feels it, most days, especially seeing as his leg’s been bothering him something fierce ever since he turned fifty. Of course, other celebrations that night had seen fit to distract him from too much moping, but on the road, there’s no one around to draw his attention away from the ache. He’s got more lines in his sun-baked face than he can count, lately, and he’s fairly sure he found silvers in his hair when he’d last seen his reflection, but he’s alive and well for the most part, so who’s he to complain? Well, maybe he’ll still complain, but it won’t be about the fact that he’s been given the chance to get older.

“You’re always going to be Mr. Faraday,” Anthony says, smirking, “ _sir_ ,” he adds, like he’s trying to add insult to that injury.

Faraday grumbles as he winds his hand through Jack’s ropes to lead him through the town. He probably doesn’t have many journeys left with Jack, who’s getting as old as Faraday, but he’s too stubborn to admit that future is coming. Leading Jack towards the trough, Faraday glances over his shoulder to make sure Anthony’s following along. 

“So,” he says, trying to sound casual as he avoids Anthony’s eye, “how’s Rose Creek’s favorite farmer?” 

Anthony snorts, shaking his head. “Miserable going on a month, seeing as you’re late in returning.”

Ever since he’d turned eighteen, Anthony’s been helping out on the farms in addition to taking over his father’s role as schoolteacher and has dug his hands deep in the dirt to help the town bounce back from Bogue’s influence. There’s only one farmer out there that Faraday actually cares about, though, and he knows exactly why he’s been so miserable about his unexpectedly prolonged absence. 

“Guess I’ll have to go soothe some aches,” he says, grinning away like an idiot.

“Should I warn Vasquez you’re back?”

Faraday grins as he glances towards the horizon where that farmhouse is waiting for him, hopefully with a decent meal, a soft bed, and an annoyed Mexican inside. “Nah, I’ll surprise him,” he says, trying not to let it show too much on his face how eager he is to be doing that surprising. 

It’s not that he’s trying to hide what he and Vasquez have, but he also isn’t going out of his way to talk too loud about it, seeing as you never know when someone might take offence to two men finding companionship the way they have, even if they’re doing it in the privacy of their own four walls _and_ you’ve earned the goodwill of saving the town.

Then again, they also bank on that goodwill whenever a warrant officer rides into town with Vasquez’s likeness, what with the townsfolk having a tacit agreement that the man who looks so much like him at the farm nearby isn’t Vasquez at all, but a farmer who just happens to bear an uncanny resemblance to the wanted man.

“If you’re smart, you’ll bring this.” 

Faraday catches the bottle that Anthony throws to him, unwrapping it to see that it’s Vasquez’s favorite tequila. Whistling, Faraday gives Anthony an impressed look. “Someone ride to Mexico recently?”

“We had passers-through, looking for a wanted man with a five-hundred-dollar bounty on his head. We told them all about how we’d seen him go north,” Anthony shares with a smirk, “and they left us the bottle in thanks.”

Tucking it into his belt as he mounts Jack, Faraday can’t help his delighted laugh. “Bet you had fun with that one.”

“We earn our entertainment, around here,” Anthony agrees. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m heading out to help Vasquez build the new wardrobe.”

“I’ll see you then,” Faraday agrees, twisting off the cap of the bottle so he can take a swig of the tequila, wincing when it promises to strip him of his eyesight with little more than a sip, which is proof enough that Vasquez is going to love it.

It’s not a long ride out of town to get to the relatively new Vasquez farm, but it feels like eternity when it’s the only place Faraday’s been wanting to be for the past few months.

Faraday gives Jack a rub at his flank as he positions himself at the top of the hill, looking down on the farm nearby. The crops are coming in slowly as spring rolls around to summer and the barn’s been painted recently. On the porch, Vasquez has one foot against the railing and is using that leverage to rock himself as he sits on the long, wooden swing, smoking that damn evening ritual cigar of his.

“Every time,” Faraday says to himself, exhaling as his heart beats so madly fast. “Every time, the sight of that man gets me more than I’m willing to admit.”

Jack whinnies in response, like he’s agreeing that the sight of Vasquez is enough to make anyone’s heart burst with affection. He sets Jack into action, taking that last descent with a whole lot of hollering and whooping that’s undignified for a man his age, which gets Vasquez to rise to his feet from where he’d been sitting so comfortably. Faraday wastes no time in settling Jack to a stop near enough that he can dismount with a jump (securing him rapidly to a post so he doesn’t bolt on him) and stalks his way up the porch to pin Vasquez to the front door, hands firmly holding onto his waist to keep him there.

“You wait for me every night on the porch like this?” Faraday asks, grinning like an idiot who’s just come home to the only thing that could make him feel this damn alive. He slides his thumbs up and down Vasquez’s hips, not kissing him just yet because he’s enjoying the way Vasquez is squirming, clearly wanting to bite back with an insult.

If Faraday’s honest, he appreciates the bickering about as much as he likes the sex between them.

“I thought maybe tonight, I would look outside and see a beautiful thing on the horizon.”

“Did you?”

“Oye, no,” Vasquez laments with a sigh. “Just some idiot _guero_ making a noisy fuss.” He breaks, soon enough, with a deep laugh, wrapping his arm around Faraday’s neck to pull him in, pressing his forehead to Faraday’s. “I missed you so much,” he murmurs, the teasing stripped away, only honesty left behind.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Faraday guarantees, leaning in for a kiss that’s meant to be quick and a promise for more later.

Vasquez doesn’t let him get away with that, trapping Faraday so that he can deepen the kiss, parting his lips to let Faraday in. It’s a slow, welcome embrace, a homecoming that he’s grown used to over the years. Fifteen years hasn’t made too much of a mark on Vasquez, save for making him even handsomer, even with the extra lines and silvers in his hair, but having a home and not worrying about the bounty on his head has worked miracles on relaxing the man. 

He’s not so jumpy, not nearly so cagey, and Faraday has been benefitting from the change ever since Vasquez first took possession of this land.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry, I just made dinner.” Vasquez finally decides to stop his determined goal to weaken Faraday at the knees through kisses alone, and _obviously_ , the only thing more important than kissing him is food.

“You didn’t eat it all?”

There’s a flash of guilt on Vasquez’s face, which means Faraday hadn’t been entirely off in his accusations. “Just some of it. I didn’t know tonight was the night you’re coming back.” 

It’s amazing how Vasquez being a damn stomach on legs is even charming to him, these days, which is proof enough that Faraday is a completely lost cause when it comes to loving this man. Still, who’s he to complain? He’s got dinner on the table, Vasquez in his arms, and the promise of a soft bed to fuck and sleep in. 

Faraday leans in for another kiss, wrapping his arm around Vasquez’s waist to guide him inside. “Goddamn, did I miss you,” he says, the words visceral and honest.

There’s a funny look on Vasquez’s face, like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Too hungry and weary to think on it too long, Faraday lets it go for now, but resolves to come back to it later and find out why Vasquez is looking at him like he’s about to lose Faraday any minute now.

* * *

After a filling meal that’s a little cold (but beggars can’t be choosers), Faraday ends up getting to use that soft bed for one of its intended purposes, spending hours bringing Vasquez off until he’s begging so sweet that it’s like music to Faraday’s ears. When they’ve exhausted their desperation to touch each other and make up for three months gone, they settle into lazy kisses until the moon’s high in the night sky. When even that proves to require too much energy, Faraday settles as he starts to strip to everything but his smallclothes, seeing as it’s getting too hot to be wearing anything else, especially when he’s got Vasquez pressed along the back of him like a comforting wall of heat. It’s more than he’s used to from the other man, who normally doesn’t sleep so close especially when it’s getting so warm. 

“How come you’re all clingy tonight?” Faraday wonders, not that he particularly minds.

“You were supposed to be home a month ago,” Vasquez complains, mouthing at Faraday’s bare shoulder with a kiss, tightening his arms’ hold around Faraday’s waist as he curls in. His arms are stronger than ever, given the work he does around the farm, and Faraday’s favorite thing is when he gets to lazily slide his palm over the firm muscles of his forearm, just like this. 

It’s too late for conversations like this, but he also doesn’t want to ruin his first night back. Sighing, Faraday shifts them so that he can rest his cheek on Vasquez’s chest, pushing the other man to his back. “The damn horse wouldn’t break,” he complains.

 _Home_ , echoes Vasquez’s voice in his mind. _You were supposed to be home._

For all the years that they’ve been doing this, Faraday still lays claim to a room in town, which is where he stays when he’s not here at the farm with Vasquez. If they’re splitting hairs, that would be his official home in town, whereas he’s just a happy visitor here.

“Is that you asking me to stay here, finally?”

The ensuing silence is just as awkward as Faraday’s been expecting. He sighs and slides his fingers through the silvering hair at Vasquez’s temples, thinking that the man’s every bit as handsome as he’d been fifteen years back when Faraday had first met him and insulted damn near every thing about him.

“Are you going to stop leaving?” Vasquez replies finally, his voice hushed.

“You know I travel for work, sweetheart, that’s how I earn my keep,” Faraday replies, absently rubbing his hand in circles against Vasquez’s chest. In the dark, the room is only lit by the moonlight streaming in past the curtains, but the truth is that this room is where Faraday feels most comfortable. 

They’re lying in a large bed, framed by four-posters, built by hand by Vasquez himself. The man had taken to woodworking and building after some of the folks in Rose Creek had given him this parcel of land, seeing as the money they had didn’t seem to stretch far enough between the seven of them. To be fair, the offer for land had been made to all of them, but Vasquez had been the only one to take it. 

Horne had gone back to his little shack, Billy and Goodnight had healed and then made their way off together, Red back to his people, and Sam to his work. Faraday had lingered around long enough that he and Vasquez had been able to shift from contemptuous friends to something more, and even when Faraday had struck up a business of taming wild horses he always came back here.

Trouble is, apparently, that he keeps leaving.

“Alejo,” Faraday sighs, bringing out the big guns.

“Joshua,” Vasquez retorts. 

This is a fight they’ve had a dozen times, but never on the nights when Faraday returns home. Those have always been bright spots that aren’t supposed to be marred like this, but apparently Faraday’s luck is changing, because now they’re going to talk about this.

“What am I going to do in town?” he heatedly asks.

He gets no answer from Vasquez, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that the hurt look on his face is Faraday-caused. Vasquez has set his jaw hard, his eyes burning with irritation, and Faraday knows him well enough to know that he’s currently fighting with all his might not to say something that’ll send them even deeper into a fight.

“You want to know why I don’t ask you to stay? Because you don’t,” Vasquez finally says, but he hasn’t waited long enough for all the anger to simmer out of his words. “You come when you please, you leave when you like. I’m the man you turn to when you want a hot dinner, a warm body. I’m convenient.”

Faraday gapes up at Vasquez, wondering how in the hell he’s come to that conclusion. “Now, listen here, you thick-headed Mexican asshole…”

“Stop it,” Vasquez cuts him off, even though he’s the one who started this whole damn thing. “I’m too tired. It’s been a long day and I missed you, I don’t want to fight about this, not right now. You’re going to be around for at least a little while longer. We’ll talk later.”

Faraday’s been gearing up to bicker and fight, but that also runs the risk of him spending the night in the second bedroom and right now, the soft fabric of Vasquez’s sleeping shirt is cool and comfortable under his cheek. This is a debate that’s going to have to wait until the morning to get resolved, but somehow, he’s going to need to convince Vasquez that he’s not just resting his hat here when it’s convenient.

“Hey,” Faraday murmurs when the mood calms, keeping his voice hushed. “You may be thick-headed and oblivious and an idiot, but I still love you.”

Vasquez says nothing in response, just shifts so that he’s wrapped around Faraday from behind, snoring soundly. Faraday rolls his eyes and settles back against that warmth, basking in that hold and the comfort of being where he is.

* * *

The next night, Faraday stays at his place in town. He knows that it only hurts the both of them and that as annoyed and bitter as Faraday is, Vasquez will be no better off for the separation. He knows he shouldn’t be forcing space, but he can’t get over the fear that maybe Vasquez is right and things aren’t going to work out because Faraday wants to have a purpose. He’s good at taking people’s wild horses, breaking them in for riding. Why should he have to give that up? What the hell is he going to do in town? Is he really so awful for not wanting to give up his job, just to settle down and play farmer?

Is love supposed to be worth giving up the rest of your life? 

On the other hand, he’s fifty-one this year and while he doesn’t think he’s ready to get off the road, most people would have started to think about settling down a long time ago. Most people also don’t have a man like Vasquez waiting for them, offering them a ready-made house and home, dinners on the table, and the sweetest kisses that you can get drunk on, tasting tequila and the occasional apple pie on his lips. Maybe he’s been holding too stubbornly on to a job that he could probably adapt and do in the town just as well, but he hasn’t exactly spent much time thinking about that because he’s too stubborn to concede that he could be the one in the wrong.

Instead of facing his problems head-on, Faraday decides to grace the inn with his presence, ordering himself two heaping servings of breakfast to try and eat the damn problem away. He’s got two biscuits in his mouth when a shadow blocks the sunlight from his plate, forcing Faraday to look up with hope that maybe Vasquez rode in from the farm to ask him to stay, again.

Only, it’s not Vasquez.

Tempering his disappointment, Faraday swallows rapidly and waves hello with his fork. “Emma Q,” he greets. “I would’ve thought you’d be with Anthony to greet me last night. Has our love already cooled from its hot tendrils of lust?”

She doesn’t look very impressed, what with the hands on her hips and stern face, but then, Faraday thinks that she goes through life permanently unimpressed with Faraday’s antics. He gestures to the chair beside him to invite her to sit. It’s actually fairly fateful that she’s here, seeing as his most recent ruminations could use a helpful hand of advice. She’s the perfect one for it, too, given how his issues relate and pertain to her life in a way.

“I didn’t expect to see you in town so soon,” she says, reaching over to steal one of the sausages from Faraday’s plate. “Did Vasquez already get tired of your face?”

Faraday winces slightly, not entirely willing to go into the details of why he’s in town so soon, but lucky for him, he’s got something else he wants to talk about. Using one of his uneaten biscuits to point at her with, he braces himself for a conversation he doesn’t really want to have, but knows he ought to.

“When Teddy kept pursuing you, asking you out for strolls and dinner, you said no for damn near five years,” he recalls, thinking that the whole business had been plain old sad at the beginning, but the two have been married now for two years, so what does Faraday know? 

“You’re asking about my romantic relationship with Teddy Q?” Emma asks in disbelief.

“I realize that in previous conversations, I went out of my way to ignore it.”

“That, you did.”

“In my defense, I’ve grown to see you as a little sister and Teddy’s been a kid brother from the start. It’s all a bit incestuous,” he rambles, waving a hand. “I mean, congratulations on your happiness and all,” he adds belatedly, trying to temper the insult.

“Are you asking for any reason in particular, Faraday?”

She _knows_ exactly why he’s asking. For all that Faraday doesn’t tell people what he and Vasquez get up to on that farm, there’s a few folks in town who know plenty well what happens. Emma’s one of them, having seen their relationship drift from gunfire and insults to something more comfortable and settled, though always prone to the occasional melee. 

“I’m starting to think that maybe me saying no again and again, that one of these times, it’ll take,” he says. “Were you ever worried about that? Did you think maybe Teddy was going to stop asking for your hand in marriage?” 

That’s the real rub of it. What happens if Faraday sticks to his guns to the point that Vasquez decides that he’s done waiting around? They’re not young, anymore, but there’s any number of widows and single women in town who’d be happy to move in on Faraday’s territory, if Vasquez were to start looking. Faraday’s not stupid enough not to know that. 

“Faraday,” Emma starts, looking at him sympathetically. “What I’m about to say may imply that I don’t love my second husband, but I’ll thank you to be patient.”

Faraday’s willing to wait it out, if only because she’s intrigued the hell out of him with a comment like that. “Go on.”

“I was never worried Teddy would drift,” she says. “Not for a second, because I knew that Teddy didn’t have anyone else that he loved half as much as he did me. I knew that I was the first thing he thought of in the morning, the last thing at night, and the only reason I took so long was because I wanted to mourn Matthew properly, I wanted to give my husband the respect he deserved. Teddy’s been in love with me a long time and I knew his world revolved around me.”

Obsessed, is what it sounds like, which goes right back to that whole ‘it’s a bit sad’ thought he’d been having earlier.

“You shouldn’t worry either, but you should also be aware that if you take advantage of the fact that you’re Vasquez’s world and you keep breaking his heart, other people are going to start sticking up for him and making your life miserable as a result,” Emma says pointedly, making it extremely clear that she’s referring to herself. “He’s waiting for you, Faraday. Why do you keep running?”

“I’m not cut out for this kind of life, Emma,” Faraday protests.

“Bullshit,” she accuses. “You bolt every time it gets real because you think it might end. So, you get as far away as you can so that he’ll miss you more,” she says. “Trouble is, he’d be just as happy if you stuck around, you just can’t get that through your thick head of yours.”

Faraday keeps stubbornly eating, sipping at his coffee, and wondering if she’s right. He’s not entirely sure she’s right about why he keeps leaving, but maybe there’s enough truth to it that he doesn’t argue it.

“Say hi to Teddy for me,” Faraday finally says, instead of spending another second asking about Vasquez. It’s his way of saying that he doesn’t want to think about that right now, but would rather eat his breakfast in peace. 

“Better yet, you and Vasquez ought to come to dinner,” Emma replies pointedly. “Tomorrow night. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Faraday agrees, knowing that he hasn’t got any other choice but to obey.

Maybe by then, he’ll have figured out this mess in his head and things will be resolved instead of simmering in this gigantic mess like they are. Maybe Faraday will figure out exactly why he’s so reticent about staying. Hell, maybe Vasquez will decide that he doesn’t really care and will let Faraday leave to do whatever he likes, whenever he wants. It’s not likely, but right now, with the day stretching out before him, Faraday is full of hope.

* * *

It feels like he’s been drinking since breakfast, which is patently untrue.

He’d started drinking _with_ his third serving of breakfast, letting the grease of the food soak up the first sips of liquor.

True, it’s not the smartest thing he could do, but alcohol’s been his go-to for years and that’s a hard habit to break. It takes him about two drinks to realize that he’s been drinking the tequila meant for Vasquez, which only makes him more maudlin. What if Vasquez asks him to stay again, Faraday says he won’t, and that’s the final straw? Is it really worth travelling all over the damn country just to break in some horses when he could figure out a way to make a living here? 

Is it really going to be worth it, hauling himself from east to west if there’s nothing to come back to?

Worse, he can’t even begin to imagine leaving and Vasquez moving on with someone else. He takes a long swig of the tequila to try and banish that image from his mind where it’s trying to take root, like it might give him nightmares. It comes down to figuring out what Faraday wants most in his life, and given that he’s fifty-one and in love, this shouldn’t be so hard.

“Get yourself together, god damn it,” he chides himself, the whole room swaying around him. He doesn’t want to go back to Vasquez like this, drunken and sad, but he wants to go home. He wants Vasquez to boil water so they can soak in that gigantic tub he’d shaped by hand so it’d fit the both of them. He wants to swing on the porch while he smokes and watch Vasquez dig up the ditches. He wants to enjoy a hot dinner, while his hands touch Vasquez and hint at what he wants later.

At the same time, he wants to tend to Jack and the other horses that might come through town. He wants to keep doing what he’s doing, but maybe it’s just never occurred to him that all he needs to do is _ask_ if he can do it here.

There’s another question he needs to ask, right on the heels of that first one, and Faraday thinks that it’s long past time that he gets to asking it. 

Faraday picks himself up and treks out to the fields where he’d nearly blown himself to high heaven all those years ago, laying flat on the tall grasses and letting the breeze drift over him until the world stops spinning and he’s closer to sober than inebriated. By then, the sun’s tipped past mid-day and into soft afternoon light and Faraday can feel himself starting to burn, which means it’s best that he get moving before he finds himself too sun-weary to do anything but sleep.

He stops in town to make a quick stop at his place to pick up all the meager possessions he hadn’t been keeping at the farm, setting them on his back as he takes Jack and makes the journey out towards Vasquez, using every minute of that ride to think about what he’s doing and whether he’s really sure about it. When he arrives, Vasquez is sanding down some wood, wearing nothing but one of his loosest linens and a pair of well-worn trousers, hat casting shadows over his face.

Faraday takes him time settling Jack, holding the half-full bottle of tequila in his hand as he wanders around back to the shade where Vasquez has set up his station. 

“I didn’t know you were coming back so soon,” Vasquez says, his attention fixed below him on what he’s working on. “I didn’t make you dinner.”

“That’s okay, I’ll cook something up later,” Faraday says, running his fingers through his hair and trying to fix his appearance so he looks a lot less like the mess of a man who’s been lying in the grass all afternoon. He wanders closer and rests a hand on Vasquez’s wrist, knowing that even if he’s still got his doubts and worries, he knows what he wants to do.

Vasquez sets the tools down and lets Faraday bring him to the porch where he settles them down on the steps, setting the bottle behind him. He’s sure his breath still reeks of the stuff, but he’s clear in the mind. He’s also got a clear heart telling him to go for what he wants, now he just needs to translate what’s in his mind and heart into actual words. Vasquez seems more than willing to allow himself to be pulled away from his work, one hand resting on Faraday’s knee when they sit, like this simple contact is going to keep him from drifting too far away. 

“Ask me again,” Faraday says, angling himself towards Vasquez so he can look him in the eye. 

Vasquez gives him a wary look, like he’s not ready to have this fight again. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as I’ll ever be.” It’s meant to encourage Vasquez, but also has the handy benefit of giving Faraday a last burst of courage. “Ask.”

Vasquez doesn’t look like he’s entirely convinced, but that slowly starts to erode away, until there’s nothing but naked hope and affection on his face. Faraday’s not sure he could say no to that if he’d tried, so he’s glad that he’s made his mind up the way he has. “Stay with me?”

Even though the _yes_ is definitely coming, Faraday knows that he doesn’t want to make it that easy.

“I don’t know, Ale, that seems pretty half-hearted to me. I think maybe you need to ask better than that,” Faraday criticizes, shaking his head like he’s just so damn disappointed with Vasquez’s half-hearted plea. He gets in closer and slides his hands into Vasquez’s, his face lit up with amusement, because Vasquez has got no way of knowing what’s coming. Faraday does, though, and for once, this is a plan that doesn’t have a high probability of seeing him blown up, shot, or cheated out of his horse.

Vasquez looks at him, faintly amused, like he’s willing to play along. “Better?”

“Yeah, better,” Faraday agrees, sinking down to both his knees, even though the bad one cracks with a painful sound as he goes down. He hasn’t let go of Vasquez’s hands, though, and he already knows he’s got his man when Vasquez stares down at him with that look of blind adoration that Faraday’s not sure he deserves.

“ _Guerito_ ,” he chides.

“I ain’t that little anymore,” Faraday protests. 

“Get up, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Only after you say yes to me staying, to us being together, being partners, equal. I’m not saying that I want you to marry me and end up my wife, but as good as,” Faraday decides, right there on his knees. “I’m not going anywhere, Alejo, I’m sticking right here with you. We can build some stables, bring horses to me and I’ll take on the work with the saddles the way I always talked about,” he says, rambling about this picture he’s made in his mind. “You’re gonna have to get used to sharing a bed with me and…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish laying out his incredibly clever plan, because Vasquez tackles him to the ground, cupping his face and kissing him as he presses him into the dirt, guaranteeing that one of them will be elbows deep in suds later to get the mess cleaned off. Faraday’s torn between shoving Vasquez away because it’s not like they’re getting anywhere with this kiss, what with Faraday laughing like a maniac and Vasquez trying to kiss those laughs away, and letting it happen until it softens into something real.

He goes for the former, if only so he can prod and tease. “Hey, hey, sweetheart,” Faraday croons, “we got all the time in the world for that.”

“No time like the present to start,” Vasquez insists, brushing his thumbs up and down the column of Faraday’s neck as he straddles him and leans back so that he can offer both hands out to Faraday, hauling him up from the ground. “Let’s go celebrate with that tequila you keep hiding from me. Then, we’ll celebrate in the bedroom, for the rest of our lives.”

Maybe it’s taken him fifteen years to get to this point, but Faraday plans on making sure he doesn’t waste the next fifteen. He’s bound to fuck up, sure, but that just means a whole lot of making it up to Vasquez and damn if that isn’t always his favorite part.

* * *

“You Faraday?” 

Faraday adjusts his hat and looks up from where he’s working on tweaking the saddle in his hands, working the leather to add the little embellishments he’s been contracted to put on. He has to move his head a little to squint past the direct sunlight, but soon enough, a young man in his early twenties comes into view. As always, Faraday gauges the look of him before he decides whether he’s a threat or not, but he doesn’t see a weapon in sight and there’s a horse trying to tug and pull at the man, which means that he’s a potential client and not someone here for a nearly two-decade old bounty.

“If that horse is for me, then, yes, I am, sir,” he agrees, raising to his feet to help get a hand on the rope before someone gets dragged into the dusty earth. “What’s your name?”

“MacAdams,” the man says. “I got referred to you in town, seems you’ve got one hell of a reputation for this.”

“Well, you can’t account for everyone’s taste,” he jokes, but damn it all if he doesn’t sound as proud as he feels.

He’ll have more time to bask in his glory later, seeing as right now he needs to get the horse towards the barn before it does something like kick one of them in the ribs. Together, they lead the horse towards the new stables, handily built over the last year as something of a marriage gift to Faraday and he’s not ashamed to say that every time he sees them, he lights up like an idiot. He’s patting the new horse’s flank as he leads him in, hushing him carefully as MacAdams follows, gesturing to the way the sun’s glinting off the gold band on Faraday’s finger. “You married?”

“Something like that,” Faraday agrees, unable to help his proud smile. “It’s a recent thing, still getting used to it.”

“The little wife keeps you busy, then? You have to break her in the same as these horses?” MacAdams jokes. 

The sound that comes from Faraday is practically indecent, half-wishing that Vasquez were here if only so that Faraday could see the ridiculously affronted look the man would get on his face. He clears his throat and reminds himself not to act like an ass in public to strangers about his wedding band, seeing as that’ll just lead to questions. 

“No little wife, just a promise to keep,” Faraday clarifies, once he’s managed to get control of himself. He settles the horse in the stall and gets down to talking business with MacAdams, including a timeline, price, and what to expect. 

MacAdams presses a few coins into Faraday’s hand and heads back to town with Faraday’s recommendation of drink in hand. Faraday flips one of the coins in his palm and glances back at the now-full stable that he honestly never expected to see. 

It's not like this would’ve been his first choice, but maybe it’s not so bad having people come to Rose Creek instead of him riding out to them.

Later, that night, Faraday takes pleasure in straddling Vasquez and relaying the day’s news. “New client thinks you’re my docile little wife waiting at home all day for me.”

Vasquez gives a derisive snort, grabbing Faraday by the hips so hard that his thumbs will leave imprints against the weather-tanned skin, which is one of Faraday’s favorite things in the whole world. He surges up for a kiss, a strong hand at the nape of Faraday’s neck pulling him down so they can roll around on the bed.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I had something like that, but I didn’t feel like losing his money by telling him the truth,” Faraday quips, grinning up at Vasquez from where he’s pinned on the bed. “Now, come here, honey, and make your husband a happy man.”

The glittering mischief in Vasquez’s eyes as he slides down Faraday’s body sends prickles of excitement and anticipation through him. Faraday knows that they’re not as young as they used to be and it takes a little more encouragement to get him going, but Vasquez is no quitter. In fact, Faraday is more than happy to say that Vasquez goes above and beyond, coaxing Faraday to full arousal and using his mouth and tongue in practiced ways to bring him off in a way that only a man who’s loved you for two decades can.

Faraday lets out a breathless sigh when he comes and Vasquez swallows as much as he can, crawling back up his side.

“Still good to stay?” Vasquez asks for what must be the fiftieth time, as Faraday starts to work Vasquez’s trousers open to reciprocate. He sounds unsure and truth be told, Faraday’s going to have to get him to stop asking, because it’s starting to get ridiculous, but he deserves to ask at least a few more times. Faraday did make him wait a hell of a long time for it.

Instead of answering in words, Faraday makes him promises with actions as he works Vasquez open with his fingers, slicking him up, and fucking him until Vasquez is begging for more, sobbing out Faraday’s name, and holding onto his shoulders tightly as Faraday fucks him, earning crescent-shaped scars from where Vasquez is digging his fingers into him. Those little marks will linger until they fade, and then Faraday will just make sure he gets them back somehow.

Joshua Faraday doesn’t intend to go _anywhere_ , not when he’s found himself the only home he’s ever wanted. 

It’s here within these walls, it’s in the way Vasquez moans his name when he comes, the warmth of him as he wraps himself around Faraday while they fall asleep, and in the way that his favorite breakfast is sizzling on the stove the next morning when Faraday wakes. It’s the stable and the hand-crafted bed, it’s clothes jumbled up together, hard-earned meals from their crops, and the knowledge that it’s theirs and no one’s taking this from them.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Faraday promises, thinking about that whole wonderful life stretching out in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

There’s a pain in his lower back that’s been bothering him ever since morning, which is a worry because the last time he had a pain like this, it had lingered for weeks. Then again, last time it’d hurt like this, he’d been hauling ass back from Kansas to make time with Vasquez and this time, he’s got a comfortable mattress, the prospect of hot baths, and best of all, ten very long, very willing fingers to help him work it out.

“Darling,” Faraday makes a pained sound as he settles on the bed, his pajamas straining as he sits on the edge. “Could you…?”

Vasquez glances up from where he’s working on the figures for the crops, trying to figure out how many seeds he needs from the next few towns over, but he squints in the candlelight to see what Faraday is doing. The man needs spectacles, but that vanity and stubbornness of his are combining to make him a holy terror of denial. 

Lucky for him, they’ve been with each other long enough that Vasquez knows exactly what Faraday wants.

He sets down ledger and pen and ambles over to the bed slowly, crawling on hands and knees so that he can rest his chin on Faraday’s shoulder, sliding his fingers slowly down Faraday’s back until they find the knot in the lower regions, pressing in with a vicious, _mean_ push to them that Faraday’s ready to beg for more of.

“Fuck, if I didn’t love you already, this would do it,” Faraday vows.

“Here I thought my dick earned your love years ago.”

“That, too,” Faraday hums, blissful as the pain starts to ebb away at the touch of Vasquez’s warm hands. He glances over his shoulder after a moment of silence, not sure why he feels compelled to make sure that on this point, Vasquez knows he’s not exaggerating. “I mean it, V, I love you.”

“ _Sí, sí_ , I know,” Vasquez hums in reply, sounding faintly amused as he rubs his fingers a little lower for a quick grope and squeeze, that hand sliding around the curve of Faraday’s hip and towards something else that hadn’t been aching a second ago, but is starting to perk up now. “Want me to show my thanks?”

“If you’re obliged, I won’t say no,” Faraday says, easing himself onto his aching back and propping his head with his arms behind his head. 

Sure, his body might ache and he’s nowhere near as young and charming as he used to be, but he’s got a home, a partner, and right now, he’s got a soft bed beneath him, a willing hand working him over, and the knowledge that there’s always going to be someone there for him when he wakes up in the morning, safe and sound.

A year from now, maybe he’ll ask Vasquez to help him expand the stables. Maybe in two years, they’ll end up taking Emma and Teddy’s little ones out to learn how to live off the land and in five years, they can learn to shoot. Hell, if in ten years, he’s still alive, then it’s more than Faraday ever expected to have. If he gets another ten years with Vasquez, then he’s a luckier son of a bitch than he ever counted on being.

It might not be the life he’d imagined for himself, but he’ll fight to the death to keep it, however many years he’s got left.


End file.
